Night's Own
by Merayna
Summary: Sasuke raced through the trees, a solitary black breeze. Air whipped his dark hair from his face, causing the shining path of a tear to go awry. Sorrow and fury battled for dominance in his mind, clashing again and again. Eventual SasuNaru, tiny SasuSaku
1. Death of a Blossom

**Night's Own  
**Chapter One

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It was dark.

Not the cool, peaceful dark of slumber, not even the endless inky blackness of a new moon.

It was dark: a deep, stuffy dark with black tendril hands slowly pulling her into its depths.

Flailing frantic fingers all around her, her throat tightened as she struggled to gasp. No welcoming rush of sweet air made its way to her weakening lungs. Instead, she was met with a wall of black silence, the cold horrifying silence of endless sleep, the silence after the last breath and the last, wavering heartbeat.

It was the silence of death.

Still, she struggled, straining against her bonds, shaking her head desperately, strands of rose-colored hair waving around her paling face. She tried to moan.

It was useless, she knew. She had no chakra left, let alone physical strength. Death was merely waiting; standing still in the shadows, ready to claim what was already his. The pain, itself, was unbearable, but still, she struggled. She fought, writhing, as death slowly dragged her from the white fingers of life.

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The man stared unblinkingly with a dark black gaze at the motionless figure slumped, limp, in her bonds. He bent down slowly, taking her thin wrist gently in strong, pale fingers. There was no response.

He straightened slowly, eyes flicking around his surroundings; mouth a thin, unwavering line. It was a cold room, lifeless and gray, with an indescribable chill soaked into the hard, stone walls. He memorized it, eyes roving over every detail. He would not forget. She had died here, in this room, struggling as these cold walls stared with their unforgiving gaze.

Rage inched its way into his frozen heart, its flame flickering brightly, but his face held no emotion. He had been trained to be an unfeeling killer; even if his face had betrayed his anger, it would have been unseen, for a pale, almost comical animal mask shielded his delicate features from view.

In an instant, the air changed, and a soft wind whistled quietly as a bright blur of color appeared at his side, revealing itself to be a lean, neatly muscled man. Gleaming blue eyes took in the scene quickly and grimly. An eyelid flickered, the only sign of the outrage now pumping through angry veins.

A shock of bright yellow hair fell in the newcomer's face, spiked and tipped at the ends. Three diagonal lines raked themselves across his healthy tanned cheeks. His bright blue eyes shone with emotion, switching from rage, shock, disgust, and lastly, regret.

"Sasuke?" he said softly.

There was no reply. A cool silence filled the stone room, concealing unspoken words.

Finally, in a curt, cold, voice, Sasuke replied, "Look around. If you can't read the story, then you are not ninja."

"Sasuke…"

"Naruto, she's dead. She was captured. She was tortured. That is all."

Naruto watched, eyes narrowed, as Sasuke seemed to melt into shadow. His forehead wrinkled in concern. Mouth opening, he made as if to speak and his feet moved a few steps as if to follow, but he stopped and merely gazed, a corner of his mouth twisted, as his friend ran away.

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Sasuke raced through the trees, a solitary black breeze. Air whipped his dark hair from his face, causing the shining path of a tear to go awry. Sorrow and fury battled for dominance in his mind, clashing again and again. For a split second, he grimaced in pain before resuming his stoic, emotionless mask.

'Sakura…'

He thought of the girl's lively green gaze and her quick, wide smile, of the way the sun would shine off her pink hair, causing a rosy halo to encircle her face. He remembered laughs and warm hugs. He remembered soft fingers against his cheek.

He blinked back tears and wondered at his self-control.

Sakura, one of the few that he trusted, was dead. One of the first people to open up to him, to really welcome him as a friend, was ripped out of his life violently and suddenly without any warning. Death was a common side-effect to shinobi life, but in this instance, he had been caught unawares.

It didn't seem fair. He couldn't explain this feeling, this unfairness, but it was there, lingering in the back of his mind, in the sour taste in his mouth. No matter how much he tried to shove it out, how much he tried to close it off, it somehow slipped its way subtly back into his mind.

A question formed, silent, unsaid, on his lips.

'Why…?'

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Naruto sighed, plunking himself down in front of Sakura's limp form. Moving with practiced ease, he slid off the thin blindfold wrapped around her lifeless cheeks. He flicked her eyelids, looking at empty green eyes. Slowly, he inspected her thoroughly, running his hands carefully over arms, neck, and legs.

Removing his hands with a slight jerk, he fumbled with his vest before drawing out a small, battered green notebook. Lightly licking the end of a tiny pencil dwarfed in his large, rough hands, he scribbled furiously, whipping the pages in a small, white storm, filling pages with his untidy scrawl.

Cause of Death: Slow compression of the lungs and strangulation.

Time of Death: 5:45 PM

Location of Death: Sound Country. Cave near creek. Room used before.

Damage to Body: Pressure points used, no visible bruises, brain damage. Mind magic. Common Sound torture methods used. (See medical-nin guide)

Current State: clothing, accessories still intact. Hitai-ate still secure, bracelet on left wrist, hair neat.

Finders: ANBU captain, Uchiha Sasuke, and elite jounin, Uzumaki Naruto, aged 21.

Dead Ninja: Haruno Sakura, chuunin, aged 21.

Uchiha may suffer from psychological damage. Therapy recommended. New medical ninja needed for cell block 7. May require a day of rest.

Naruto paused, pen going still. He bit his lip in worry. Who could give therapy to Sasuke? What would he do with a day's rest? He hesitated, pencil hovering over that last entry, ready to scribble it out ferociously.

His shoulders became motionless and tense as he stared at the automatic response he had written for Sakura, pencil motionless in his hand. He had done other death reports, but none from his own cell. It was…different. It was raw, fresh, and painful, like a deep gash slowly becoming infected. He looked at Sakura. The tears he had been stuffing inside of himself rose to the corners of his eyes, making them burn and water. The pain he had been keeping away clenched his chest and tightened his throat.

Quietly, very quietly, so softly that no one could hear, he let himself weep.

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Sasuke walked into the Hokage's office, walking in quick, long strides, shoulders stiff and set formidably. He moved fluidly, seeming one with air and shadow. His ANBU mask was firmly in place and every weapon and hair was in immaculate order. There was a deadly aura surrounding him.

At almost the same time, Naruto bound in, eyes baring the tiniest hint of redness. His hair was the slightest bit frumpy and his vest had the lightest trace of wrinkles, but, other than that, he had all the appearance of a normal reporting jounin. His long legs covered the distance quickly, helping him move with a sort of feral grace. He, too, glimmered with a deadly aura.

Tsunade looked grimly at the two young men, each distinctly distressed. Her fingers were linked together, supporting her chin as she leaned on her elbows in a thoughtful silence. She regarded them suspiciously for a few moments before opening her mouth to speak.

"Report," she said softly, voice gentle.

Naruto replied stiffly, "Missing ninja found dead."

"Cause?"

"Torture by strangulation."

"By whom?"

"Sound Country jounin."

There was a small pause before the last question.

"Name of ninja?"

"…Haruno Sakura."


	2. Colder than Snow

Night's Own

Chapter Two: Colder than Snow

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The shadows rippled on the swaying branches as the soft whispers of trees murmured gently. A dark figure sat in the mottled darkness, completely still, head bent, muscles tense. The tiniest rustle was the only sign of his arrival as Naruto sat quietly by Sasuke, careful to be not too close, but at the same time, not too far. No glance was shared, no word was uttered, but there was an understanding between the two men, a silent acknowledgment.

They sat like that for a few moments, watching the sky lighten from a dusky azure and a brilliant red-orange with pink tipped edges to a pale, powdery blue. Memories flashed between them of a bright smile framed by light rose-colored hair. Their faces were carefully composed, wiped of emotion, a skill formed through the hard life of a ninja, but the air still bristled with strong, almost electric undercurrents of painful remembrances.

Naruto broke the pained silence with a soft whisper, "You weren't the only one who loved her."

For the smallest second, it seemed as if Sasuke would not answer, his face shielded by the dappled shadows of leaves.

"I know," he replied, almost softer than a whisper.

Naruto sighed and tilted his head heavily against the smooth, sturdy tree trunk. They sat together, a blur of color bathed in the golden light of the sun filtering through the trees, listening to the whispering leaves croon a wordless lament that only they could hear.

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Naruto grinned, expression feral, whisker marks edged viciously, almost violently against his cheeks, fangs sharp, eyes slitted in a dangerous delight. A single drop of sweat seemed suspended in the air as it delicately detached itself from his forehead. Before it dropped to the ground, he suddenly spun, kunai glinting, as it sunk into the soft flesh of a neck. As the blood splattered onto his face, the single drop of sweat fell with a soft plip to the thirsty, blood-drenched earth.

Calmly, he wiped the trickling red beads from his cheek, feral grin tainted with a deep lusting hunger. Eyes quickly flicking over his shoulder, he moved, actions blurred, slashing in a violent motion. Flowing into the opposite direction, his hands moved in an almost graceful gesture followed by the crack of bone and a heavy, sickly thud. A trickle of scarlet glittered almost merrily as it dripped down his forehead. Eyes glinting, he flicked the tip of his tongue out to catch the red drops. He smiled a completely inhuman smile, a smile that was colder than snow.

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The pale animal mask was spattered with blood still warm from the vein, fresh, slightly steaming. The sound of organs spilling wetly from an open stomach mingled with the coppery scent of blood tingeing the air. Katana flashing in a quick motion, pale wrists twisted, followed by clean, sharp swipe and a thin gurgle. With a thrust faster than a hummingbird's wings, the same motion buried the still-dripping blade deeply into a sturdy chest with a squelch and a sprinkle of blood not unlike a shower of rain.

Flowing over the unfortunate man's chin, and staining his white teeth a sickly red, his last words were spat with hatred laced with blood, "Uchiha…"

Laughter bubbled upward from Sasuke's chest, and burst forth with a deadly ice colder than snow.

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Tsunade sat, silent, for once not sleeping on the job. A simple, framed photograph lay on her desk. A pretty girl with cropped pink hair smiled from her thin glass frame, a trapped moment of time as lost as an unborn babe, and as fleeting as a smile.

Two weeks had passed slowly since Sakura's death, and her teammates filled the void her passing brought with ever increasing amounts of blood and death. A slender finger traced the girl's bright face. Tsunade bowed her head in memory of a dedicated student. A warm drop plopped on the thin layer of glass encasing a dead girl's empty smile.

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Kakashi opened his eyes, slowly becoming accustomed to the bright morning light spilling onto the floor, cocooned in a warm tangle of sheets and limbs. A slight movement at his side prompted a small smile. An arm drew itself across his chest and warm lips made their way to his neck.

"Morning…"

Kakashi turned toward his love, eyes soft. Iruka smiled, black hair in a fuzzy cloud around his gentle face, a single scar scraping itself across his nose. Brushing dark hair from Iruka's eyes, Kakashi placed a loving kiss on the tip of that cute, scarred nose.

Moving his lips to a soft cheek, he murmured, "I love you…"

Iruka smiled, arms encircling Kakashi's neck, "I love you, too."

The harsh blaring of an alarm clock jolted both men from their warm, loving stupor. Kakashi sighed loudly, untangling himself from Iruka reluctantly, arms stretching. Iruka groaned, thumping his head into his pillow.

"I don't want to go," he muttered.

"Not much choice. Miss a mission, miss a ninja," was Kakashi's muffled reply as he drew on a shirt. "Besides, we need to check up on Sasuke and Naruto, remember?"

Iruka sat up, eyes sad, "Oh yeah…Sakura."

"Exactly," Kakashi replied, hands busy pulling on his vest. Looking at Iruka's delightfully unclothed figure with longing, he bent down for a quick kiss before departing.

"Bye love," he said warmly, and then he was gone.

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Iruka dressed slowly, expression thoughtful. He had never really been that close to Sakura. He had taught her, of course, but it had never progressed past that distant, disinterested teacher-student relationship. Still, he wasn't blind to the pain her death had brought. Her passing had deeply affected Naruto and Sasuke. Pulling his short hair into his customary topknot, he glanced out the window, its panes of glass streaming, almost glowing, with the warm sunlight. Watching the light, he lapsed again into thought.

Naruto had, forcefully, brought Sasuke back five years ago after the death of Orochimaru and the temporary disbanding of Akatsuki. In the beginning, Sasuke had been stubborn, resistant, rebellious, and withdrawn. He refused to speak, only looking straight into people's eyes with a deep, burning anger. Only with Naruto did he share any form of communication, and even then, it was limited to firm shakes of the head and the various twists of his lips. Sasuke could see the obvious distrust in the villagers' faces; he wasn't stupid. Naruto and Sakura, maybe foolishly, maybe wisely, firmly stood by him.

Each day, Sakura would make the trek to Uchiha's apartment. For five years, she never once missed a day. After screaming and delivering a loud, betrayed slap, her trust was reestablished and was pure and unwavering.

Ever so slowly, he was given missions, at first only D-class, which he suffered through with frustrated silences, but steadily gained class. Almost without effort, he had once again ingratiated himself among the leaf ninja elite. Determinedly, he fought his way into the ANBU, and, with as much patience as ever, climbed the ranks. Soon his name was not a forbidden utterance, but was spoken with respect bordering reverence. Only Naruto was held in such high esteem, and in such fear.

Iruka frowned at the dust motes twirling lazily in the beams of sunlight pouring from the window. Sakura had been the anchor in the little group of Team 7. What could he possibly say? There were no words that could fit death.

He had seen how both boys had looked at her; he knew they both had loved her. To have her suddenly wrenched from their lives…must be devastating. For a brief moment, he imagined his life without Kakashi…and almost choked on the pain it brought.

Still, Naruto was basically his son. He had an obligation. He supposed he could wing it; wasn't that one of the secrets of Fatherhood? Making things up as you go along and hoping that it works out? He wouldn't know, but he hoped fervently that it was true as he walked out the doorway.

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Kakashi ambled lazily down the streets, pausing every now and then to inspect a trinket or another. Turning a corner, he paused at the sight of the pale young man, animal mask at his side, a cup of untouched tea limply between his hands. Kakashi stood completely still, watching, almost waiting.

Sasuke continued to sit, his face, if possible, even paler than usual. His lips were pressed together till they resembled nothing more than a thin line as his eyes relived red, painful memories. He rose from his seat, making as if to leave, when, suddenly, he stilled. His face never turned, but slowly, he lowered himself back to his seat.

Naruto, wordlessly, sat beside him, a steaming cup of tea wafting. Sharing a swift, almost imperceptible glance, both raised their cup of tea to their lips in silence. After that one glance, neither shared any other form of acknowledgement, but it was almost obvious that they were there together.

Mask hiding a small grin, Kakashi stepped forward casually, barely missing a rather anxious-looking Iruka. As their eyes connected, a wave of warmth descended upon Kakashi that tingled his spine. Feeling slightly better, he opened his mouth to say something, but Iruka was quicker, a friendly smile arching his mouth.

"Morning boys."

Naruto allowed himself a tiny twist of his lips while Sasuke gave the shallowest of nods.

"Good morning, Iruka," Naruto said without malice.

Iruka nodded quickly, "Um, we're here to talk to you about your missions…"

Naruto glanced at him suspiciously, "What about…?"

Sasuke only stared impassively.

There was a pause as Iruka riffled his hair in an agitated manner. "The Hokage is going to give you both a week's leave…" his mouth worked silently after his brief statement, as if he was thinking of adding more to it, but eventually, decided the better of it.

Both boys visibly tensed as their eyes sharpened, the same expression of disbelief and rage twisting their features.

"That bitch!" snarled Naruto. "She can't do this! Not after…not after…" he trailed off in a whisper.

He seemed stricken, panicked, and almost…desperate. Sasuke made no sound, but his eyes flared dangerously, and his hand twitched slightly as if it was on the verge of clenching itself into a fist.

Kakashi allowed himself a smile; nobody could see behind his cloth mask, but Iruka looked at him sharply. The man knew him too well.

"Well," he began, "While I'm sure Sakura would be delighted to see you both as merciless, blood-soaked killing machines, if you disobey the Hokage while in such strained times, I doubt you would get more missions. After all, who can trust a ninja that disobeys a direct order from his Hokage? No missions equals no way for either of you to work off that grief-caused frustration. Of course, it's your choice."

Kakashi grinned; his logic was perfect. Iruka was pelting him now with dagger-like glares, but Kakashi's words were having an effect. Naruto and Sasuke seemed lost in thought, twin sets of worried contemplation.

Glancing at each other, they sprung apart in different directions, leaping from roof to roof.

"Guess they're off to packing their bags…" said Iruka, relief coloring his features.

"Not much choice," was Kakashi's grim reply.

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**A/N:** Sorry for the long wait. I was in Taiwan for about a month, and I kinda sorta had writer's block. Hehe? An unfortunate trait in my writing is that I never plan ahead, which usually leads to me being stuck in a story and never finishing it. As I never garner much attention, it's usually not much of a problem, though. Haha, who would've thunk? Anyway, thanks to my two reviewers!

**Mister Pineapple:** I love your stories quite a bit. The My Baby's Daddy series is awesome. I was amazed, not to mention delighted, to see you had reviewed my story! I tried to make it fit into what I thought ninja was supposed to be. I hope I succeeded.

**Letta: **Oh, don't get me wrong, I like Sakura, too. She's a very admirable character, but I was just experimenting with a character death and found that Sakura dying fit best. Usually, I wait a few chapters before killing someone, though. It was kind of interesting to start it at the beginning. It really affects the plot, eh?


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